At the Institute of War
by yelenam
Summary: What happens at the Institute behind closed doors? Katarina x Garen.
1. Chapter 1

Wham. It was the sound of her wrapped fist hitting the punching bag for the hundredth and last time. She was in one of the smaller arenas, set up for close combat and practice. During her stays at the Institute of War, where generally no one would volunteer to practice with her, she worked out there, trying herself against the sand bags with a variety of kicks and punches. She found that, lacking proper practice with blades, it was an efficient way to keep herself on form.

Besides, it was a way to work out her frustrations. Dealings in peace times went too slow for her liking, and far too boring. It was tedious to sit at a table, discussing things. She would much rather just fight out it out and be done with it.

However, that was not how the Institute worked. Knowing her time was up in the small arena, she threw one final punch at the lifeless bag of sand hanging in the corner. The last week had been particularly rough, with the planning of the one-year anniversary of the truce that had followed the disaster in Kalamanda. She had spent the first part of her day in meetings with the demacians, and while they finally had agreed on parts of the celebration, it had been a long way getting there.

She let out a heavy breath as she started to unwrap her hands cursing herself internally of how hard she had tied them, but she finally let the hand wraps fall to the floor. Looking at the wall-to-wall mirror to the side, she saw that it had been a hard workout indeed; her white crop top was drenched in sweat. She had tied her hair up for once, but it had not exactly stayed that way; now it was mostly tied up, with several strands framing her face and hanging down her neck.

She would have to take a bath before the celebration.

"You seem to be really in need of the training time you booked." The sarcastic remark came from the side, where she knew the door to be. A bit surprised that she had not heard him enter, she turned to glare at him.

"Don't you have a mirror in your own rooms? Other people could use this arena you know."

She supposed she had been too lost in her own thoughts to notice him entering. Turning to look him over, she almost laughed.

"What did you do with the yordies, play in the mud?" Garen Crownguard stood a few feet away, dried mud stains splattered over his light shirt and trousers. His hair was slick with it.

"It was an ambush," he said, turning his glare on her. "Several of them were hiding in the bushes."

"How does it feel to be surprised in your own territory?"

"Very funny." The big man just looked annoyed. "Are you going to leave or will I have to carry you out?"

She shrugged before bending to pick up her hand wraps from the floor. "I suppose you could always be a gentleman and allow me to leave on my own."

* * *

"I could," he said, cocking his head to the side. He wondered how he had managed to not notice her clothes at the meeting earlier; he was quite sure the crop top and black trousers would have caught his attention, if only for the fact that they weren't her usual clothes.

"And I'm in a hurry to get started, so get out."

"As you wish, your majesty."

He rolled his eyes as he shrugged off his large jacket. "No need to be snarky." Watching her pick up her jacket, he started to take off his heavy shirt. He noticed her watching, and chuckled.

Her wrinkled nose amused him. "If you're trying to scare me away, it's working."

With a snide smile, he looked her over.

"Then why are you still here?"

She returned the smile. "Obnoxious as always, aren't you?"

"Only with you, my dear."

"Okay, I'm going!" He knew she would, of course, but pretending to start taking off his trousers had been too tempting for him to resist.

"I feel a bit bad that you have to use your body in that way to scare me, truly, I do. If you only felt confident enough in your abilities to actually fight me, maybe it would not be necessary."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Is that a challenge?"

"As if you'd dare."

It was as if she _wanted_ to fight him. But why would she want that? She had to know he was ten times stronger than her, and there was no way she would stand a chance in a real fight without weapons. But he was a bit intrigued; she knew that he was stronger than her, but she would not taunt him if she did not wish a fight. Nor would she wish for a fight she was sure she would loose.

He took a few steps closer to her, measuring her. "What have you learned, Katarina?"

"Do you have the guts to find out?"

Her green eyes bored into his, looking dangerously suggestive. Her left eye was framed by a scar running down from her brow to her eyelid; the remnants of a demacian blade. He himself bore countless smaller scars on his upper body, but none of them as noticeable as hers, nor as distinguished. His were from the battlefield, and most of them had, in recent years, been left by her blades. They were as close as they could get to being equally matched on the battlefield; their styles of fighting were fundamentally different, but he could not deny that he always longed to fight her again. She was his match, and the fact that she did not use a sword was made up for by her skill with knives.

He knew he shouldn't. But he had never been able to resist fighting her, and such an opportunity was too good to miss.

Before she could move, he had her pinned against the wall, her wrists held above her head against the wall by his hands. He knew that several of the other League ambassadors thought he feelings of a rather more private kind towards the assassin, but while she might extremely enticing, and at times masterfully seductive, he did not feel that way towards her. Yes, she was hot. But she was noxian.

"Your move."

She looked surprisingly devious for a short moment. "Haven't you learned? It is _always_ my move."

And then she was gone, slipped from his grasp in an instant. He had to admit, she was fast. When he turned around, she had her jacket slung over her shoulder and her hand wraps held tight in her fist.

With a sly smile on her face, she turned around when she was at the door.

"See you tonight, Crownguard."

* * *

"Give me two seconds to get dressed, will you?" He roared as he worked to fasten his towel around his waist. It had taken forever, but he had finally managed to get all the mud out of his hair, and now he was late. He guessed that was why Lux was trying to break down his door.

He was correct. Lux stormed in the moment he opened it, wearing a long formal dress. Her hair was done up in ringlets, bouncing around her shoulders as she looked around his room.

"Why aren't you dressed?"

"Because I just had a bath," he said, trying not to be annoyed at her. After all, it was he who was late, and in a bit of a bad temper after the small standoff with Katarina earlier.

"But we're already late," she complained, and started to go through his drawers, looking for what he could wear to a formal dance. With a nod of his head, he showed her his clothes already laid out on the bed.

"At least you've got some sense," she acceded, half-running over to inspect them. When she found no apparent flaws, she sighed, and headed back towards the door. "Two minutes," she warned, and shut it behind her.

Knowing full well she meant _only_ two minutes, he hurriedly got dressed and dried his hair as best he could. The black eye he had gotten from the yordies earlier he was unable to hide, but he supposed he would not be the only one there with bruises: this was an institute of war after all, and nearly all the champions trained day in and day out; no bruises would be highly unnatural.

When Lux stormed back in, he had just finished putting on his dress coat. More accustomed to see him in armor, she stopped dead in her tracks, a wicked grin on her face.

"Garen, you are going to melt hearts tonight," she announced, twirling around to show off her dress as well. "As am I."

"Luxanna, you look stunning," he said, bowing to kiss the top of her forehead. "Now let's go."

She looked down at his hip, where he usually carried his sword.

"No weapons today?"

"I'm not expecting trouble at a dance."

"I don't think the dance will be any trouble at all," Lux said brightly, a wicked grin on her face. "I have higher hopes for the after party."

"Of course you do," he murmured, and offered his sister his arm. As if she was regularly escorted to balls, she accepted his arm as they started walking towards the courtyard.

"Remind me why we are celebrating again?" She asked when they arrived, her mouth hanging slightly agape. The dark courtyard outside the Institute was lit with hundreds of lanterns in the late twilight, as the attending champions streamed out of the living quarters and onto the paved square that was surrounded by several sections of garden.

"One year since our treaty following Kalamanda."

"Oh. I'd forgotten."

Of course she had. He loved his sister, of course he did, but she was a bit forgetful at times. That was likely because she hadn't been in Kalamanda, but he had, and it was not something he was likely to forget.

Walking onto the paved square, Garen saw several people he knew. Some of them he did not like much, like the pirate Gankplank or the gambler Twisted Fate, but he had been pretty sure they would all be there. Everyone present at the Institute had been invited, but only the diplomats of Demacia and Noxus were required to attend. Though, with as few dances and celebrations as was held at the Institute, he was not at all surprised to see most of the champions at tenting.

Lux pulled on his arm, taking his attention.

"What?"

"Do you see Ez anywhere?"

With a resigned sigh, he turned to look for the young man who seemed to take all of Lux attention lately.

"I don't see why you had me escort you to this, when you could've just asked him."

A flush crept up her cheeks onto her horrified expression. "What if he had said no?"

He shook his head, a small smile on his face. Lux, as brave as she could be in combat, had no clue how to handle people she had crushes on. Once she'd had a crush on Jarvan, and she hadn't spoken to him in months; it had been pretty awkward to tell Jarvan why.

As he thought of him, he looked around, a bit puzzled. "Where's Jarvan?"

"Jarvan went back to Demacia," she said, clearing her throat. "He did not want to open the dance; he'll be back tomorrow."

Suspicion crept into his voice. "What do you mean, open the dance?"

"Oh you know, the diplomats from Demacia and Noxus are required to open the dance with a dance," she said, as if it was only a small detail she had forgotten to mention. He knew that with Jarvan gone, he would be the next diplomat in line for the 'honor'.

He narrowed his eyes. "Why can't you do it?"

She cleared her throat again. "Well, because there are no male noxian diplomats."

No male noxian diplomats. He felt as if he had been punched in the stomach; he knew who the noxian diplomat had to be.

As if on cue, one of the men who sat on the council of war standing on the small raised platform started speaking.

"Honored guests," he started, looking at them all with glistening eyes. To Garen, it looked like he had started a bit early with the brew.

"I am honored to be here to commemorate the one year anniversary of a war-free Valoran, following the treaty of Kalamanda between Noxus and Demacia. This past year all our conflicts have been resolved peacefully, with the help of the diplomats of all the city-states who continue to serve their states as emissaries to the Council."

Garen only half-listened as the councilman continued to speak of their great peacetime achievements, and his ears only barely caught the last lines of the speech.

"And now, to start off our celebration, a dance to symbolize the treaty! Please welcome to the floor Garen Crownguard and Katarina DuCouteau."

Reluctant to enter the lit square surrounded by all those people he knew, he only did because of the stern look Lux gave him when he was about to chicken out. As he stepped into the spotlights, he internally cursed Jarvan for not _at the very least_ warning him of this.

For a long moment, he stood there alone, not seeing the faintest trace of Katarina. Maybe she had chickened out when she'd heard it would be him, and refused to do the dance. He was a bit amused by the image; then who would he dance with? Maybe Talon would volunteer or something.

His train of half-amusing thoughts were cut off short when he saw the crowd parting, and spotted Katarina moving towards him. For a moment, he was struck speechless. She wore a dress of dark grey material that shimmered when she walked, with a _very_ deep cut that showed off so much of her that he was a bit surprised she had dared step out of her room in it. He had never thought Katarina for a girl who would ever be caught dead in a dress, and had half-expected that she would show up in her usual tight leather trousers and barely-there chest piece.

He had thought Lux's dress of blue silk had been exceptional, but it paled in comparison to, what could barely be called a dress, on Katarina.

The woman in front of him now, so familiar, yet so new, so worryingly alluring, gave him a curt nod before she curtsied slightly, a tradition before starting a dance. Shaking himself mentally, he grasped her hand and kissed her fingers as he bowed, the customary thing to do.

If he had to do this, at least he would do it properly.

"I see you got the mud out of your hair," she said quietly, all eyes on them.

"That doesn't sound like an insult."

"It wouldn't do on a dance floor."

With practiced movements, she placed one arm on his shoulder and another in his hand, giving him a slight nod. He reluctantly placed his hand on her waist when he heard the music starting to play, and started twirling around on the dance floor.

To his surprise, Katarina was a very graceful dancer. He was not at all sure why he was surprised, seeing as he had more than once seen her move with the speed and grace of a cheetah from the savannah. The song seemed to last forever as they made their way across the dance floor, but eventually they were joined by several couples who had finally received the okay to step onto the floor. On a turn, he spotted Lux's fleeting grin as she twirled by in Ezreal's arms.

The music continued to build, and as the pace of the dance escalated, so did their movements. What had before been one slow turn for Katarina suddenly became three in the same space of time as the one had taken, and before he knew it they had reached the end of the dance.

As the drum sounded its final beat, he stood bent over Katarina, holding her up by her waist so she would not fall. Her chest heaved with the strain of dancing, pushing the material of her dress to fall so that he was surprised it still covered her.

Her green eyes showed the exhilaration of the dance, but it faded somewhat when he straightened, pulling her with him. She loosened her hands and gave him a small smile. "You were decent."

"I didn't know that assassins were taught to dance," he retorted, as they walked side by side off the dance floor, clearing the way for the rest of the couples who wanted their turn.

"Assassins aren't. Daughters of Generals are."

"Even you."

"It should not surprise you that I have many talents you will never get to experience, Crownguard."


	2. Chapter 2

"My brother is _so _clueless!" Lux complained, sighing loudly as they watched him chatting to a few people some distance away. "He doesn't even realize that they're flirting with him!"

Katarina rolled her eyes. "Surprised, are you?"

"I wish i was. But I'm not. I'm surprised Garen meets any girls at all!"

"He meets girls? Really? Now _I'm _surprised."

Lux turned to look at her, her head cocked to the side. "Why? The way I hear it, most of the women here finds him utterly charming and very handsome."

"I guess they've never found themselves at the point of his sword."

The blonde shrugged, and took another sip of her glass of champagne. She did not seem too bothered about it.

"You should hear him talk about women though. He just does not seem interested."

"Ever think he might not be interested in women?"

Now Lux really laughed; it was a charming sound, really. "Oh, he's interested in women all right. I know that much."

"Really?" She raised an eyebrow. "Now I'm curious."

"I'm afraid I swore not to tell. Otherwise I totally would."

Luxanna, always knowing just what to tell to make it interesting, but not enough to reveal just how much she knew. She had not been that devious when she had first arrived at the Institute, but she had learned quickly which secrets to guard carefully and which to hint about. She was quite interesting.

"Dear Lux, you are just teasing me." She smiled slyly at the slightly younger woman, who returned a wicked grin.

With a laugh, she grabbed two more drinks and gave one to the ditzy blonde.

"Drink up, Lux. This party ain't going to liven up itself!"

She giggled. "I can't wait for the after party."

Katarina mulled it over. Quite a few people were invited; where Lux intended to host it she did not know, but it would probably be quite crowded. She was not sure exactly who was invited, but she guessed the list would include Ezreal, Garen, Akali, Shen, and Ahri at the very least.

"Why are you standing here with me, by the way, and not with Ezreal?"

"You looked like you could use some company." She shrugged. "Besides, I'll have enough time with Ez tonight."

"And here I thought you were head over heels in love with him."

Lux blushed furiously, but nodded.

"Then go there and talk to him." She nudged the smaller blonde in the side, almost causing her to trip over.

"I mean, he is a bit older than me I suppose." She sighed, ignoring Katarina's advice and taking another drink from a passing waiter.

"Only by a few years, isn't it?"

"Three years," she said, blushing.

Katarina rolled her eyes. "Three years is nothing. Try fifteen, and you might have a problem."

It was as if the animosity between them from earlier had all but vanished; it was as Talon said, there were no enemies at a celebration. Except maybe a certain Demacian commander, but that was personal.

It probably had something to do with the fact that Lux was starting to get drunk, but Katarina did not mind. Being around drunk people tended to be especially entertaining.

"I really like your dress," Lux said suddenly, looking up and down the dark fabric that clung to Katarina's upper body before flaring out at her hips.

"I wish I could wear dresses like that. Maybe Ez wouldn't see me as just a child anymore."

She looked down at her dress, thinking it through. If Lux wanted to wear a dress like hers, it could certainly be arranged. It was not that she was especially keen on sharing her clothes with a demacian, but Lux was Lux, and despite their differences, they were sort of friends, at least from time to time. And besides, she was in a good mood.

"Why don't you come with me? I have one that just might fit you."

Once she realized what Katarina was suggesting, she blushed, but she could not hide the excitement in her eyes.

"Really?"

Katarina winked and grabbed two new glasses of champagne handing one of them to Lux. "Champagne goes with every dress fitting."

* * *

"It's so beautiful!" Lux exclaimed as she watched herself in the mirror, wearing one of Katarina's more revealing dresses. It was quite similar to the one she herself was wearing, with a plunging neckline and a flaring skirt, but instead of dark grey it was a pale pink; that was the main reason Katarina herself had never worn it. Pink was just not her style.

"You might want to find Ezreal as soon as we get back, before your brother sees you. He does not seem particularly fond of my choice in dresses, I'm afraid."

Lux dismissed her words. "Garen has no say in what I wear. If he does not like it, he does not have to look at it."

She let out a laugh. "Good for you. Are you ready to go?"

With a wide grin, Lux nodded, and smiled with excitement as they made their way back to the celebration.

The first thing Katarina noticed when they returned were that everyone were starting to be a bit buzzed, and she grabbed herself another glass of champagne. It did not take them long to find the young explorer Lux was so smitten with, however, and the look on his face when he spotted Lux made her squeal and blush at once.

Katarina forgotten, Lux made her way over to Ezreal at once, not seeming so worried anymore.

"Luxanna," the young explorer said, sounding a bit flustered.

With a small smile, Katarina turned around to leave them alone.

"And they say you're heartless," Talon said, coming from behind her. "I saw what you did for her."

She shrugged. "I did nothing. It was a dress I never wore; if it would make her happy, why not?"

"I didn't say that. It was nice of you."

With a long look over the dancing couples, several of whom she knew, she sighed. "I remember when Cassiopeia wore such dresses. She was so happy when all eyes were on her."

Talon nodded with remorse.

"Lux reminds me of how she used to be."

"Don't think about that, Katarina. Why don't we go and have ourselves a dance? I think we're in the need of one."

A small smile crept to her face as she accepted his hand, and allowed herself to be lead onto the floor.

It was nice to dance with Talon. He was a decent dancer, having only learnt how last year. Her father had wanted him to learn, seeing as he would likely be attending several functions at the High Command, despite Talon's wish to remain in the shadows.

It was silent as they made their way around the dance floor, between several other people she knew. She spotted Sarah Fortune dancing with the Bligewater representative, Gangplank. She supposed there really were no enemies at a celebration. Taric stood to the side, scowling over at Lux and Ezreal. Maybe some grudges would not be settled by a dance. Every champion of the League was invited, and most of them were in attendance.

A thought struck her, suddenly remembering part of the conversation she had had with Lux earlier.

"Are you coming to the after party?"

After he had finished twirling her around, he grunted. "Do I have to?"

She shrugged as best she could mid-dance, before being twirled around again. This time however, it was not Talon's arms that waited to grab her.

"Why is my sister wearing one of your dresses?"

Of course it had to be him. It could not be someone whose company she could actually enjoy, it had to be Garen who stole her away from Talon, and only to talk about his sister. How disappointing. She felt content dancing with him though, knowing he could only talk her to boredom. If he did anything else, it would likely be a violation of the treaty, and he would not risk such a thing.

As they started to move around the floor, she sighed quietly. What had she expected anyway?

"Because she thought my dress pretty, and I offered to borrow her one. Don't you like it?"

"I can't imagine you thought I would like you playing dress-up with Lux."

She waited until they reach a slower part of the dance to speak again, when he had her lowered almost to the floor.

"I asked if you didn't like my dress." The quiet way she had spoken had taken him off guard, causing him to forget to lift her up. As if involuntarily, he looked over her dress again.

As if mentally shaking himself, he jerked her up quite suddenly, before improvising an extra twirl. It threw her off balance, causing her to stumble on her turn.

She scowled at him when he again caught her in his arms.

"It is not about the dress, Katarina. It's about you putting that kind of dress on my baby sister."

"Your sister is an adult, fully capable of making her own choices. Did you ever consider there was a reason she wanted such a dress?"

"What could possibly be the reason to need a dress change in the middle of a dance?" He seemed confused, not understanding the importance of the proper dress, she supposed. Men.

"Crownguard…" She sighed in exaggerated exasperation. "The only reason women wear dresses like these is to impress someone."

* * *

"I don't see why we have to have this after-party in _my_ room," he grumbled as he sat in one of the many pillows that Lux had scattered on the floor. Where she had gotten them he had no idea, but they were pretty comfortable. He knew with all the people she had invited, that he would not have nearly enough chairs for them all if they wanted to sit down.

"Because my rooms aren't big enough," she said, busying herself with putting up several bottles of whiskey and the like for the coming guests. She always insisted on having some kind of after-party, or at least going to one. If he remembered correctly, Taric had hosted the previous one.

"Don't be a buzzkill. If you want I can try to hook you up with someone again."

He rolled his eyes. "I'll manage. Don't worry about it."

Without knocking, the first person burst through the door. It was Lulu, one of the small yordies who had ambushed him earlier. She gave him a wide grin before bouncing over to Lux, giggling. Lux picked her up and swung her around, to the fae's great enjoyment.

To his relief, Lux had changed out of the pink dress from earlier into a white tee and blue skirt, which at least covered her up a bit, even if the skirt was short. He had been embarrassed to look at her wearing Katarina's dress, but Lux had completely adored it. He suspected it was mostly the attention she adored, and she had gotten plenty of that.

Slowly, the room was filled up with the invited champions. Most of them had changed into comfort wear as well, but a few wore their dresses and suits from earlier. He himself had changed into slacks and a tee, but though it was supposed to be comfortable, he found it only made him feel horribly unprotected.

"Garen, can you get that?" Lux called from the other side of the room, busy with pouring drinks. He cocked his head to the side, wondering what she wanted him to get. With a silent nod to the door, she turned back around to watch what she was doing.

He reluctantly got up, edging around Leona and Ezreal as they were in the middle of a conversation, to open the door. When he opened it, he was for a long moment very confused by what he saw.

Vayne, the Night Hunter stood there, scowling at the noxian assassin, who was scowling back. A bit disgruntled that they had both showed up, he ushered them both inside, breaking their eye contact.

"Garen," Vayne said in greeting, a pleasant smile suddenly on her face. "I'm glad you decided to host this one, or Lux would have forced it on me."

He shrugged. "You know my sister: she does not take no for an answer when she wants something."

"I am aware." She smelled the air, and wrinkled her nose. "I smell dark things."

"Nonsense. Why don't you go enjoy yourself for once? I'm sure Lux will be more than happy to make sure you smell no more dark things. The way I hear it, everything in there tastes purple." He winked at the woman, who actually laughed. It was a rare sound to hear from Vayne, but she nodded, and disappeared into the crowd.

He turned to Katarina, wondering how she had dared show up. He knew Lux had invited all the champions, even the ones from Noxus, but he still wondered how she had the nerve,

When he finally took her in however, he was rendered speechless for a moment. She too had changed from her dress, now wearing tiny black shorts and a grey tank top.

Noticing him taking in her appearance, she leaned back onto the door frame, waiting patiently for a few moments.

"Are you done drooling now?"

He gave himself a mental shake. "What are you doing here, Katarina?"

"I was invited. Were you?"

"These are _my _rooms."

She shrugged. "I suspected as much."

"I must admit, I didn't think you'd show up."

"And I did not think you cared. Are you going to throw me out or let me in?"

With a sigh he stood aside and allowed her to pass, despite his better judgement. Leaning against the door frame, he put his hands to his face and groaned. How was this going to go? He had definitely spent more time staring at her than he should have. Why couldn't she ever cover up a bit? She was going to be trouble, and he would need something to drink if he was to deal with it.

"Whatever you're making, double it," he told his sister when he arrived at the alcohol table.

She looked a bit surprised. "It's still early."

"Yeah, well. You invited my own personal headache."

"Nonsense. Be nice."

She handed him one of the glasses of something dark brown; he nearly swallowed half of it in one gulp.

"Careful with that. Gragas brought it; I doubt it's anything light."

Annoyed by her warnings, he chugged the rest of it down as well. "Go play with someone, Luxanna."

He found himself walking around for a long time, chatting with people as he went. Several of the stranger people living at the Institute came by for a short time, before retreating to their own company. He suspected most of them, like Soraka, simply preferred to be on her own, seeking her solace with the stars.


	3. Chapter 3

"Now that all the weaklings have left," Lux said, as if announcing a grand prize, "I think it's time to play a game." She giggled, snuggling closer under Ezreal's arm. He looked a bit buzzed, but very content.

It had to be sometime around five in the morning, and most of the people had left. Remaining was himself, Lux, Ezreal, Taric, Caitlyn, Vi, Jayce, Sona, Akali, Shen, Graves, Sarah, Riven, Ahri, Talon and Katarina. Talon had only showed up a short time ago, apparently curious as to what could be so fun that Katarina hadn't gone to bed yet. How he knew that Katarina had not yet gone to bed, Garen did not know.

Sona played her tunes quietly from a corner; Akali and Shen listened to her music, looking utterly peaceful as they did so. At peace. He longed to be at peace, but he had only gotten more and more agitated and frustrated throughout the night, but as he did not know the source of it, he could do nothing about it.

"What trouble are you thinking about starting now, Lux?" He asked, a bit annoyed, a bit amused.

When she had made everyone sit down on the pillows, she sat down herself, looking gleeful.

"We are going to play truth or dare!"

Graves groaned. "I'm too old for this."

"Nonsense," Ahri said, looking at him with the doe-eyes that could make any man melt. "It will be fun; you will see."

Appeased by her flirting, he laughed and agreed to stay. Jayce winked overtly at Caitlyn, who in turn also laughed.

Most of the remaining people were, like him, wearing things that reminded him of pajamas; even Akali and Shen.

As his eyes traced the pair of ninjas, he noticed Katarina sitting next to Akali, having something that looked like a conversation. They were quite similar, both in body and clothing, with both wearing black shorts and tank tops, looking to be a bit too small for either of them. Maybe they had gone shopping for nightwear together. He knew they were sort of friends, probably bonded together from being assassins.

Or maybe they were just really similar. He did not exactly know Akali all that well.

"Who wants to go first?" Lux asked, her grin plastered on her face. In her hand she had a glass of what looked to be demacian wine. Garen rolled his eyes, ignoring the suggestive look she gave him: he did _not_ want to go first.

"Sarah," Caitlyn said, elbowing the other woman in the ribs. "Truth or dare?"

Sarah, otherwise known as Miss Fortune, the famous bounty hunter, pouted. "Truth."

"Have you ever kissed Gangplank?"

She looked stunned, but Garen had heard the rumors; he was not surprised that the question had come out. He was a bit surprised that it had come so early though: usually this game, immature as it was, started with a lot more innocent questions.

"I have not," she replied, looking away from Caitlyn's giggles.

"Have you ever wanted to?"

"Only one question at the time!" Her obvious protest revealed that there was clearly no need to ask the question again; her refusal to answer and following blush was answer enough.

After the few chuckles died down, the game resumed. Riven was asked if she ever regretted leaving Noxus, Vi told them why she called Caitlyn 'cupcake', and so on. Very few people chose dare.

"Katarina, truth or dare?" It was Lux who had asked, and Katarina suddenly seemed very suspicious.

"Truth," she said cautiously, obviously worried about Lux's dare.

"What do you think is most attractive in a man?"

The question seemed to have Katarina stumped. Garen looked on with interest, wondering what her answer would be. Beside her Talon burst into laughter, but it died out quickly enough.

"Scars," she said after a while, still looking thoughtful. A small crease between her brows had appeared. Now it was Lux's turn to look confused.

"Scars? Why?"

With a gesture that seemed so unlike Katarina that he almost had to laugh, she flipped her red hair over her shoulder. "Why would I want a knight in shining armor when I can have one whose armor has already been tested time and time again? Scars are the sign of experience and survival."

Ez sighed theatrically. "Well, I'm afraid that I've no scars." Most of the circle left burst out laughing.

"Ezreal." Katarina said, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

Now it was his turn to look suspicious, but he did not bow down. "Dare." It was the first time anyone had chosen dare in a while.

"I dare you to kiss Lux."

Garen turned from Lux's beaming smile, to Ezreal's barely hidden glee, to Katarina's grin. He scowled at her. She and Lux had developed some kind of odd friendship during the night, and now she appeared to be Lux's wing woman. What was wrong with the world?

He felt his cheeks burn as he heard the whooping sounds from the crowd as Ez followed through on his dare, though when Lux was free again he could clearly see that she was happy. He saw Taric to Lux's other side though, looking anything but happy.

Jayce was next, dared to finish the rest of a bottle of whisky, which he did happily enough, before then having to balance on one foot for five minutes. He managed two. Shortly after Riven kissed Talon, who were both so drunk by that point that they barely managed without laughing. It was hilarious to watch.

Catching him watching her, Katarina raised an eyebrow at him. He took another drink in reply, before looking away from her again. He had, ever since the start of the game, caught himself looking at her, wishing she had worn more clothes.

Lux caught his eye, cocking his head. "Something wrong? You look down."

He tried his best to chuckle, ignoring the creeping suspicion in his gut that said something was up. Lux looked too innocent to be allowed. Then she turned to Taric, and fell into a conversation with him. He still looked glum from Ezreal kissing Lux earlier.

And then he had an idea.

"Talon," he said, trying to sound as innocent as possible. "I dare you to kiss Taric."

His words silenced the entire circle, as everyone turned to stare at him, not sure they had heard what they thought they had heard. Talon was no fan of Taric, and that was saying it lightly. The feeling appeared to be mutual, as Taric turned to glare at him for suggesting such a thing. However, a dare was a dare. Talon motioned for Taric to come forward, which he did reluctantly. It was a quick peck, but it brought about another round of loud laughter and pretend-disgusted noises. As far as he knew, everyone suspected Taric was gay, and while that was all fine, most of them also thought he had a crush on Ezreal. Too bad Ezreal now seemed to be taken with his sister.

Talon turned to glare at him, but he only laughed it off. He was not afraid of Talon, and even Katarina had laughed at his suggestion.

"You know Talon, I know how you can make this even," Lux shot in, again sounding exceptionally innocent. It raised Garens suspicions at once. Talon alone was no threat, but teamed up with his strategical genius of a sister? That could be trouble.

"I'm listening," Talon replied smoothly, waiting for her suggestion.

A short silence followed, filled by Sona's musical adventures. Even Akali, nestled under Shen's arm opened her eyes to see what was going on.

The glee on Lux's face was almost too much. "You could dare him to kiss the person he least wants to."

"Really?" The hooded noxian assassin leaned forward, interested in her suggestion. His hand stroked his stubble as he thought it over. "You know your brother better than I do, Luxanna. Who would you suggest?"

Lux's eyes shifted to Katarina, who quickly noticed them both looking at her. "No."

"Excellent idea." Talon looked back to Garen, who felt his face drain of color. "Garen Crownguard, I _dare _you to kiss Katarina."

"No."

Katarina waved her hand dismissivly. "He won't do it. He's too afraid."

"If you don't, I'll lock you both up in a closet until its done."

Garen eyed his sister skeptically. "And just how do you intend to accomplish that?" He was easily the biggest one at the after party, and he was all muscle. His sister was tiny in comparison.

Katarina sighed, seeming to accept her fate. "I'd rather not stay in a closet with him; there'll be no room for me. Just get it over with, will you?"

"A dare is a dare," Lux said, glaring at him. "What's it going to be?"

Despite his reluctance to comply with the dare, he dreaded the closet with Katarina more. With a sigh, he leaned over to do the deed without any further ado: it would accomplish nothing and only delay the inevitable.

He pressed his lips to hers as quickly as possible, trying to get it over with as fast as possible. It was a peck really, like the ones he gave Lux on her forehead. It was nothing to worry about, nothing to even consider.

"That's not a real kiss," Talon protested, having a hard time containing his laughter. "How was it Kat?"

Her green eyes burned into his for a moment before she turned to Talon, shrugging. "I've had better."

* * *

"What's the matter Crownguard? Can't find another arena to book?"

"What if I told you enjoy watching you struggle?"

She could practically hear his smirk from behind her. "Then I'd call you a liar." She threw another punch towards the heavy bag of sand, nearly knocking it down.

"Katarina, darling, I might not be your biggest fan, but I'm not a liar."

"Then tell me why you are here." Breathing heavily, she placed her hand on the bag to steady herself before she turned around. "I know you didn't come just to watch me work out."

"But you'd like that, I'm sure."

She looked at him, standing there by the door, wearing his smirk. "You know Garen, I'm rather busy at the moment. If there's something you wanted to discuss, then would you just say so?"

He hadn't shaved this morning; he looked thoughtful, but a bit hungover. She had left their after party pretty late, but she realized he must've been up even longer, seeing as he slept past his training session. She supposed that was why he was still bothering her.

"I came to take you up on your offer."

Puzzled, she looked at him and tightened her hand wraps. "I don't remember offering you to stare at me while I'm training."

"Actually I meant the fighting part. You seemed pretty keen to fight me yesterday."

So this was what it was about. She rolled her eyes when she realized he was there, trying to make up for his lost work-out time by borrowing some of hers. She didn't mind, though; it had been days since she had actually had someone to spar with, and although the demacian commander fought differently than she did, she had fond memories of their last fight. That one had been with proper weapons, but she had to admit she was curious to see his skills in hand to hand combat; it was not something she usually got to test.

"I see. And now you've finally worked up the courage to ask me to beat you up."

She had to admit she was a little impressed. He stood leaning against the wall, his jacket slung over his arm, and he didn't look the least worried. His blue eyes glared at her, challenging her. She returned his glare with a smirk.

"All right. Come over, and I'll wrap your hands."

With a self-satisfied smirk, he laid his jacket next to hers and pulled off his shirt, approaching with two strips of white cloth. He handed them to her and stretched out his hands.

"You know, I never knew you did hand to hand combat. I always thought you used a sword."

"What, you didn't think this body came from swordplay, did you?"

"I try not to look at it too much," she retorted, tightening the fastening on his first hand wrap until he winced slightly. It took her no time at all to fix his hand wraps properly; she had wrapped her own hands countless times.

She struck quickly, but due to his reaction time it became only a glancing blow. The strike had the desired effect though; it started the fight.

He was quick, but she was quicker. Despite his accuracy, she often moved before his fist hit his mark, leaving him to punch thin air.

When she hit, he dodged, though only barely. She struck three times in the time it took him to hit once, but she only hit with one of her punches. As their fight progressed, he began to hit more, though mostly glancing blows, while she began to tire. She was used to hitting for extended periods of time, but this was some of what she had been missing; trying to hit and move at the same time. It was more tiering, and more satisfying. The satisfying part was partly having a workout partner, and partly getting to hit the demacian commander.

After a particular hit to his ribs, he gasped and stopped trying to dodge. When she saw him freeze in motion, she stopped to look curiously at him.

"What's the matter?"

With a smirk, he moved his hands to grab her and throw her around, resulting in her hitting the wall. She smiled; he was devious all right.

Turning to him, she used the wall as leverage to present his advancing form with a swift kick in the chest, causing him to stumble. The fight was back on.

* * *

He continued to advance on her like a cougar after its prey, but whenever he got close she dodged and used some sort of fancy move to hurt him. Her blows didn't really hurt all that much, but the repetitiveness nature of them were beginning to wear him down. Her kicks was a different story; those hurt a lot in and of themselves. She was getting tired, but she was still able to dodge most of his attacks, and he was not nearly bendy enough to use her movements to hit her.

As their training progressed, he noticed how slippery she had become. Whenever he got a hold of her, he lost her nearly as quickly. Her white crop top had become drenched in sweat, but he had to admit he liked the look of it.

Deciding it was time to end their training, he grabbed her wrist and slug her against another wall, but this time he made sure she stayed there. Holding her arms tightly against the wall, he watched her heavy breathing. Her green eyes pierced into his, looking dangerously undecided about something. Despite the fact that it was he who had her pinned against the wall, it looked like it was she who was preparing to judge his soul.

"Why did you _really _come, Crownguard?"

Her breathing slowed down some, a half-smirk coming to her face. "I know you didn't come here just to train."

"You're right," he said, looking her over again. She looked better when she was working out. Last nights events were burned into his mind, despite his effort trying to drink it away. And while he could handle it for the most part, there was one thing he could not live down.

He kept her pinned against the wall as he pressed hips lips to hers. Although she was clearly surprised, she didn't bite him or kick him, which he might've suspected she would do. Instead she returned his kiss with such ferocity it took his breath away.

For a few long moments, he let himself enjoy their kiss, but then he broke away. To his glee, she looked extremely flustered, her eyes searching his face for something he couldn't know. Her breathing was still heavy, her chest heaving.

"Still had better?" He smirked down at her, watching as she broke free from his grip. He didn't see the slap coming, but he felt it across his cheek like a hot burn. It nearly wiped the smirk off his face, but he had to admit it had been worth it. Now he had to deal with her rage, however. He didn't much like facing her when she was angry. Before she was always calculated, working to achieve a goal. Now she was just pissed, and would hurt him in any way she could.

To his surprise though, she didn't hit him again. The slap seemed to have been enough for her, at least for now.

Her anger seemed to cool, her passionate fury suddenly replaced with a cold, calculating expression. "Yes."

His smirk faded as he considered her. Katarina didn't lie.

"Our training session is over," she said, her voice cold like steel. Without another word, she turned and walked straight out of the arena.


	4. Chapter 4

"Kindly tell your brother to leave me alone," she said, looking over at the young blonde walking next to her. They were eating lunch, sitting along with everyone else in the great dining hall.

"Garen? What did he do now?"

She shrugged, not really feeling like going into it with the blonde. "Interrupted my training."

"Really? And here I heard he was hooking up with a hot someone earlier today."

"Your brother knows how to do that then?" She wasn't entirely sure Lux was telling the truth; Garen always seemed too clumsy to know how to do anything, but then again, he was remarkable with a sword.

"From what I hear. Honestly though, I'd much rather not hear. Actually, that was the old story. The new story, someone told me just before lunch, that it was _you_ and him kissing." The blonde raised an eyebrow at her. "Was it?"

Katarina rolled her eyes at the rumor, despising the fact that everyone seemed to know everything around here. There were less secrets at the Institute than at the Noxian High Command, and that was saying something. Back in Noxus, most things were open secrets. Here there were no secrets.

"Really, Luxanna, do you think that low of me?"

"The walls talk."

"The walls? Or did you spy through the windows of the arena?"

"No, not me. Talon. So, is it true?"

Scowling over at Talon, she nodded slowly. "He had something to prove."

Lux giggled, nearly spilling her juice over the food she had on her plate. "I bet he did. He was oh-so-grumpy after the party yesterday, with you saying you'd had better. I was sure he couldn't live it down."

"Oh, yeah? Just like Talon told me you went home with Ezreal after that party?" She raised an eyebrow at the blonde, a smirk spreading on her face. By the blush on Lux's face, she knew she was right.

"So how was it?" It was odd, speaking to the blonde like this, but they had bonded over the dress, and were some sort of friends by now. She wasn't really feeling sitting with Talon, and Lux was the one person who could gain her some insight into Garen's twisted thoughts of having to prove himself. It was odd. At every turn before now, whenever she had insulted him or belittled him, he had either hurled an insult back or just rolled his eyes at her. Somehow he'd taken this personal.

"It was excellent. I swear, it was like magic."

"Really? He _is _a mage you know..." She let her words trail off, revealing just what she thought of such things. She had never been with a mage herself, but she had heard of such things being possible.

"Oh, trust me I know."

She grinned. "Lux, you are clever. I'll leave you to separate the world of magic and reality."

"To some of us, Katarina, magic is reality."

"And don't I envy you."

* * *

"Talking to my sister, are you?" He asked, to her great annoyance. She looked up from the book she was reading, to glare at him. Leaning on the table across her, his blue eyes glared at her.

"I don't think that's any of your business. Now leave me alone."

She tried to ignore his glare by turning her gaze back to the book about Demacian History. It was half-way interesting, and gave her something to do between training and diplomatic meetings. Already she had learned about the formation of Demacia, and its ancient history with Noxus.

"No." He walked around the table and sat down on a chair next to her, ignoring her pointed glare as he inched closer.

"Leave me alone," she sneered. Her loud voice earned her a reprimanding look from Nasus, the keeper of the books. It was annoying, but it _was_ a library, and she had come here to read.

The demacian commander leaned in closer to whisper in her ear. "So why did you tell her?"

She turned to glare at him, but was taken a little aback when she saw how close he actually was. Their foreheads were almost touching.

"I told her nothing. Talon saw."

His face tightened. "What exactly did he see?"

"I haven't talked to him. Everything, apparently."

"I see. And what else did you hear?"

She leaned in so that their forehead actually touched. Then she grinned.

"Luxanna told me about her night with Ezreal. Apparently he can do _real_ magic."

Although she hadn't thought it was possible, his glare turned even harsher on her. She just smirked. "She hasn't told you."

"I have no interest in hearing just _what_ she does with Ezreal."

"But she haven't told you." Carefully placing her hand on his cheek, she dragged her fingers slowly down to his chin, leaving faint red marks. The intensity in his eyes shifted from anger to something different. It was different from anything she'd ever seen in the demacian's eyes, but she had seen the same in other sets of eyes. These, however, were deadly.

"Don't you dare, Katarina." He glowered down at her, his gaze sending shivers down her spine. He was too close.

She abruptly leaned back, forcing her mind away from the memory of their kiss and back to the present. He had crossed a line.

"I dare what I please," she said stiffly. To her surprise, a smirk formed on his face. She looked back into his eyes, still noticing the lust she'd seen earlier. Not quite sure what to make of it, she chose to ignore it as best she could.

"Dear Katarina. You're all talk, aren't you?"

"You'll never find out, Crownguard." Determined to wipe the smirk off his face, she leaned back towards him, their noses nearly touching. To her glee, she heard him swallow.

"Or maybe that's what you want," she whispered so only he could hear. His eyes flickered from hers to her lips, and back up again. "Do you want to find out if I'm all talk, Crownguard?"

They sat close for a long time, neither saying a word. They were evaluating each other like never before; she wanted to know if that was what he wanted, while he wanted to know if she would really go through with it. His eyes burned suddenly with blue fire; he had made his choice. She was no longer in control. As the thought hit her, she heard someone call her name.

Reluctantly breaking the demacian's gaze, she turned to see who was calling her. She was not surprised when she saw Talon standing by the closest bookshelf.

"What do you want? I was busy."

"I saw that. As did practically everyone else. Are you done toying with the commander?" He raised his eyebrows at her. "Or would you like to continue?"

She looked from her adoptive brother and back to the demacian commander right next to her. To her satisfaction, he looked extremely bothered, and was breathing quite heavily. With a smirk she looked him over; she had succeeded.

"I'm done with him for now. But I'm sure we'll have more fun later."

* * *

He was beyond frustrated. She was toying with him! Toying with the commander of the Dauntless Vanguard! How dare she. How _dare _ she. He pounded the bag of sand as hard as he could; a jolt went through his entire body, but he ignored it in favor of another punch. At least he had tried to push her buttons in private, where he thought no one was watching; he could not know that Talon was spying on her. But she had done it in the library. He had only wanted to know what she had told Lux, nothing more. And then she had gone and done whatever she had done. He wasn't quite sure just exactly what she _had_ done, but he was beyond frustrated. She had wound him up and pulled a string, making him tense and recoil all at once.

What was he going to do? Despite his cocky attitude towards her, he was helplessly lost. Ever since he'd kissed her that morning, he didn't know what to do. He wanted to blame his hangover, but deep down he knew he couldn't. He was responsible for his own actions, despite how drunk or hungover he might have been at the two occasions he had kissed her. Did that mean he want to kiss her? Or did it mean that he had done it despite not wanting to? He rarely did anything he did not want to do.

He had been taken aback when he had seen her in the morning, working out so diligently. Her body had been covered with a sheen of sweat, her clothes had been sticking to her like a second skin. The memory of her body was burned into his head; he could not deny that she was gorgeous to look at. She was a woman who used her body to get what she wanted, along with her considerable intelligence and martial art skills. Deadly like a Venus Flytrap.

They had met several times on the battlefield, and after each time he yearned to face her again. Neither of them ever won decisively. Once, he had been so close to killing her that he had actually seen fear in her eyes. So far that had been the only time, but she had kicked him in the stomach right before he could thrust his sword through her heart, causing him to double over and have no power left to wield the sword. She had been close to killing him a couple of times too, but whenever she looked like she was almost about to, something happened to stop their fight. Once it had been Jarvan running between them on a horse, knocking them both back, but another time he had yanked her leg so hard that she had fallen over, glaring at him, but retreating following the small victory.

He didn't know when this had happened. She had just recently gotten back from a diplomatic mission to Bligewater, and before she had left it had not been like this. It was all spiraling down from the night before, from that dare. It had started there.

He threw another punch, as hard as he could. He had been thinking of her body, of her alluring green eyes and vivid red hair. He couldn't allow such thoughts of the assassin to be in his mind, it was absurd. He fought her, but did nothing else. He did not want to do anything else with her. But yet somehow he had.

There was no way he thought of the assassin in any other way than an enemy.

* * *

Lux stood in the middle of the gardens, wearing the blindfold still. Although blind for the moment, she could almost feel his smile radiating from him.

"You ready?"

She nodded, a wide grin on her face. She was beyond exited to see what Ezreal had made for her in the gardens; he had been working on it for hours now, and it was apparently all a big secret. Ezreal had told her that Katarina and Janna had helped him, but that it was his idea.

With swift fingers, he removed the blindfold, allowing her to see what he had done. When she saw it, she gasped. Flowers of all kinds had been arranged into a big heart at the center of the institute gardens. There came certain perks with being one of the directors of the institute.

"Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman."


	5. Chapter 5

It was with a smile she slipped into his rooms undetected. Although she hadn't seen much of his rooms when she'd been there for the after party, but she guessed the rooms in the demacian wing were much like the rooms in the noxian wing, and from what she remembered it seems about right.

She wasn't going to surprise him, though. She had not exactly thought she would surprise him.

"What are you doing here, Katarina?"

He stood on the balcony, like she had expected. He had also heard her enter, like she had expected. She went to stand next to him by the low railing, where he was overlooking the courtyard. Wearing his full armor, he looked ready to go to war. She, on the other hand, wore only the robe she had put on after her bath. She had decided against changing, not really seeing the point. She wandered around the Institute in her robe often enough. It was the first time in a while she was willingly without her knives. He wore his sword, but she doubted he would use it on her.

"And what the hell are you wearing?"

She looked down at her black silk robe; it looked like it usually did. Why he sounded so shocked she didn't know.

"I took a bath."

He looked from her clothes to her wet hair, and nodded.

"Why are you here, Katarina?"

She cocked her head to the side to look at him properly in the dim lighting. It had been hours since the library incident; she was over it.

"You might not believe me, Crownguard, but I sometimes find solace in your company." That _was _true, at least to an extent. While they were very different individuals, they had many things in common, and although she knew he longed to kill her, he also understood her desire to do the same to him.

"From one killer to another?" His joke was rather feeble, but she tried to force a smile anyway. In that, they were very different. He killed in battle, while she did her victims in as they slept or were otherwise occupied. She was rather good at that.

The courtyard below was for the most party empty. A few couples walked here and there between the bushes, and in the distance she saw the massive flowery heart Ezreal had set up for Lux earlier. The candles had all burned out and it seemed they were no longer there.

"But seriously. Why are you here, wearing that?"

With a dramatic sigh, she turned around to lean her elbows on the balcony railing, looking up at him. To her satisfaction, his eyes roamed her body when she turned. What surprised her though, was that he didn't seem the slightest embarrassed of being caught doing it.

"What's the matter, Kat? Uncomfortable?"

She rolled her eyes. She was not uncomfortable with being stared at, having spent most of her life being the center of someone's attention. If those around her were distracted by her looks, it was easier for her to get to her real objective.

"You could just tell me you think I look good."

"You already know just how good you look. You don't need me to tell you that."

She could not help smiling. He was smooth, she'd give him that. Their relationship had been like this for a while; she should not have been surprised of him showing up while she was training. Ever since she returned from Bligewater, things had been tense between them, though she didn't know why. Before Bligewater, they had been flirty and deadly all at once, but neither of them had seriously considered acting on their tension. Now, however... Just the fact that he had not been able to let the dare-kiss just be was proof enough of that. Before, he had sought her out. Now it was her turn.

He leaned closer, close enough that his arm pressed against hers as he leaned on the balcony railing. She spotted the hilt of his sword, glinting in the lamplight. His hair brushed against her cheek as he leaned to whisper in her ear.

"Why are you here, Katarina?"

With a grin, she tilted her head to look at him. He was so close she could smell his cologne. He looked breathless.

"Revenge, darling."

* * *

"Revenge, darling." He watched transfixed as she moved towards him, her lips suddenly against his. He groaned against her lips, not able to stop it. He didn't want to. How could he resist the assassin when she came to him like this? Some revenge, he thought, before loosing his mind entirely to the chemistry between them. When had _this_ happened?

The short answer was, he couldn't. Abandoning his reasoning completely, he grasped her face in his arms, caressing her cheek. She smiled against his lips, and leaned into him. Her form was so pressed against his that if not for the armor he wore, he would have been able to feel her heartbeat. For once he was sorry he wore his armor; he would have liked to feel her pressed against him. Maybe some other time, he thought, a wild idea appearing in his mind. For this would not last, he was sure it wouldn't. Although this was so far a badly thought out plan for revenge, he was completely convinced that she _had _a plan for revenge. And Katarina's plans might be different than his, but they were still quite good.

He moved his hands unconsciously to rest on her hips, feeling her skin through the thin material of the short robe. He discovered he had been right in his suspicions: she wore nothing else.

Almost imperceptibly, something between them changed. Going from a slow kiss, it became more urgent, more important. With her arms around his neck, she continued kissing him. He didn't notice she'd moved him to the wall before he felt his back crash into it, hard. He pulled her against him, wanting to keep her close. He felt her lip tug up, but ignored it. What did it matter if she was smiling? He let his hands roam her exquisite body, at least the parts that weren't pressed up against him. Reaching her spine, she shuddered slightly, but otherwise ignored it.

It didn't take long for him to loose control completely. She was gorgeous, and despite himself he wanted her. He could not help it. Soon after giving in to his lust, Katarina stepped back to look at him. Like he, she was breathing heavily, though not as much. She looked him over, and smirked. He reached out to pull her back, and she met him in a kiss again, though this time she broke it shortly after.

Confused, he looked at her. She came up to him on her tiptoes, her mouth against his ear.

"Now this is my revenge, Crownguard," she said, her vice a seductive whisper. Her breath against his ear made him groan internally, and especially once he realized just what her revenge had been.

Before she could take a step away, his arm encircled her waist, keeping her close.

"You're not going to leave me like this." His own voice was a deep growl. At the sound of his frustration, she smiled slyly at him.

In reply, she pressed herself and her lips against him again, making him groan at the touch.

"I am."

"Katarina."

The sound of his voiced frustrations made her smile. Still pressed against him, she moved a bit, making sure to cause him even more discomfort. He groaned again, gripping her tighter. She wasn't going anywhere while he was like this. She had caused it. But what did that say about him? For now, that part of it wasn't important to him.

He painstakingly noticed how the robe stretched whenever she took a deep breath. While he tried to look away, he could not. It was like he had lost control of his own actions in his lust. It was obvious to her that she had succeeded, he knew, but at that moment he no longer cared just how obvious it was.

"Stay," he murmured before pressing his lips to hers again.

Her answer was simple. "No." Then she untangled herself from his arms and left him standing on the balcony alone.

The moment he heard the door to his rooms shut, he turned to punch the wall. When he looked at where his fist had hit, he saw cracks spread from the point of impact. Great. His knuckles were bloody and raw from meeting the stone wall, but at the moment the pain was a relief. It diverted his mind from other, more pressing matters. _Seriously _pressing matters.

* * *

"Honestly Garen, _what did you do_?"

He sighed, resigned to telling her at least some of what he had done. He obviously could not tell her all of it, or she would run and tell Katarina, which he didn't want, but he had to have some explanation for his bloody hand.

"I hit a wall," he admitted grudgingly. Akali, standing in for the healer at the Institute while she was off delivering a baby, continued to examine his right hand. His knuckles were swollen and still bloody, though he had tried to rinse some of it off before going to bed the night before.

"You should've come here right away," she said, starting to pick out the small pieces of stone stuck in his hand. He flinched, but remained still as she proceeded to empty his hand of rubble.

"_Why the hell_?" The black-haired assassin sighed theatrically and blew a lock of hair out of her face.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Yeah, I don't think so." She cleansed his wounds slowly, as if wanting to make sure he learned from this. He would not be the least bit surprised if she was going slow on purpose.

"I just _really_ needed to punch something."

He had tried not to think about his encounter with Katarina from the night before, but it had been next to impossible. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw her standing in front of him in her impossibly tiny robe. As if she could read his thoughts, Akali smirked.

"Women trouble, Garen?"

"How'd you guess," he said, not really feeling like discussing one assassin with another.

"There aren't all that many things that can push a man over the edge quite like a woman."

"You'd be right about that." He sighed, and waited patiently for her to wrap his hand in a light bandage.

"Next time however, you come straight here instead of sleeping on it."

"What? The next time I have women trouble, or the next time I decide to punch a wall?"

She chuckled, as if she found him amusing. "The next time you punch something."

* * *

_A/N Okay, I know this chapter might have been a little.. weird, to say the least. I know it doesn't quiite fit with Garen and Kat, but I thought it might be fun to see them do stuff just for the hell of it, instead of being so serious all the time! Let me know what you think!_


	6. Chapter 6

"Nurse Akali? Really?" Katarina cocked an eyebrow at her friend, who were dressed in the most ridiculous garb she had ever seen her wear. "It's not the Harrowing yet."

"Shut up," she said in return, throwing her hat at her friend. "I was on duty. And just what are you wearing?"

Katarina looked down at her own clothes, and shrugged. "I was working out."

"Good. Then we can both look ridiculous for a few more hours."

Her comment made Katarina laugh. She did think Akali's outfit was somewhat more ridiculous than her own, seeing as she just wore tight trousers and a white crop top, but her hair _was_ messy she was bare-footed.

"Excellent. So, where are we headed? I thought we were going to train." She pouted theatrically, making the more serious assassin smile a little.

"I'm too tired to work out. It's been a rough day in the infirmary."

"If you say so. Let us walk, then."

"First, Garen Crownguard came in with lots of rubble stuck in his knuckles from punching a wall. Then, Lulu was accidentally poisoned by Teemo, which was hard enough to reverse by the way, and after that Draven came in with a broken leg. And all that time, the matron was gone in that childbirth!"

"Draven with a broken leg? Really? What happened?"

Akali raised an eyebrow at her. "That's what you ask about? I thought for sure you would be more curious as to why Garen had rubble in his knuckles."

She shrugged, trying to look innocent. Akali wasn't fooled, however.

"You know why he had rubble in his knuckles, don't you?"

"Well, I might have been the cause of it. But what about Draven?"

Akali gaped at her, stopping clear in her tracks. Katarina turned, a bit annoyed at her friend's pause, to look at her.

"He said he had woman trouble. What did you do?"

"Oh, so I might have bothered him a bit and left him high and dry. Why? I never foresaw that he would actually try to kill the wall."

The other assassin laughed, to Katarina's surprise. She so rarely heard Akali laugh.

"I would have guessed, but seeing as he wasn't exactly forthcoming... Just the fact that he didn't tell me who it was should have told me it was you. Honestly, your romance is the worst kept secret at the Institute, if you discount Luxanna and Ezreal."

"Our _romance_? I don't think so."

"Really? So you didn't kiss at the party, nor in the arena, and not at all then last night before he nearly broke his hand?"

Katarina gave a hard laugh. "Firstly, the party was a dare. Secondly, he ambushed me in that arena. And last night was just revenge for the arena."

"Of course it was. Revenge."

"It was. I don't know why it's become like this. It's not like either of us wants this."

"Wants what, exactly?"

She shot Akali a glare. "You know what I mean. This tension thing. I've no idea what to do about it."

"I know what you can do about it." She giggled, as if finding it funny. "You could sleep with him; that would resolve all the tension."

Katarina snorted. "Yeah, I don't think so. I'll rather just live with it; I could never live down sleeping with the enemy."

"Why, there are no enemies at the Institute, remember? That's the first thing they tell us over the intercom in the morning."

"Don't remind me of that horrid thing. I was having such a nice dream this morning, and then _that_ came on."

"Really? Why, was it about the demacian commander?"

She sighed, as if going back to her dream. It had been so good. "It was. I was just about to kill him when I woke up."

* * *

"Go away, Luxanna." His bored tone showed just how little he wanted to talk with her. As usual, he just wanted to be left alone for most of the time, but Lux never listened. She was too curious to not ask him for new gossip.

She looked at the noxian assassin with big, blue eyes, trying to get him to melt a little. After a long silence, it looked to be working.

"So what's the new gossip? C'mon Talon, if you keep it all to yourself, no one will ever know all the fun stuff that goes on around here!"

She was very good at making people do what she wanted, even if it was just to get her away. As usual, she managed to use his impatience to her advantage.

"Nothing interesting is going on. Kat took a walk with Akali earlier, after finishing training. Ahri and Graves did it in the bushes again. Draven broke his leg. Your brother punched a wall. Nidalee caught her boyfriend cheating on her, again. I'm surprised she stays with him. Evelynn and Twisted Fate might be getting back together, though you'll never know with the two of them. Caitlyn and Vi spent the day being shadowed by Jayce, a new game they've developed. I don't know the finer points. Anything else you'd like to know, so you'll leave me alone?"

She stood almost in shock with the information overload. Talon rarely shared this much at once, but again he seemed to know everything that went on at the Institute.

"Oh, and if you hoped to keep the fact that it was you who burnt up that bush in the gardens a secret, I would remove the hairpin you left there."

"That was an accident!" She said, trying to defend herself. "I didn't know it would catch fire!"

"Luxanna, dear. I don't care. But your hairpin is still there."

She took a deep breath, trying to remain cool. With the exception of her burning up the bush, everything he'd said was new to her.

"What did you do, then?"

He eyed her suspiciously, trying to figure out her play. "You already know what I did, Luxanna."

She smiled innocently, knowing well it was making him suspicious.

"Yes, I know what you did. Now I'm only curious as to who with."

To her surprise, he gave her a wicked smile in return. "That, Luxanna, will remain my secret."

Deciding Talon had told her everything of interest, and knowing he would never tell her who he had been with, she decided to grant his wish and leave him alone, despite the fact that remaining with him would surely result in even more fun information.

For a moment walking in the corridors of the Institute alone, she wondered how Draven had broken his leg, only to suddenly remember that Talon had also said Garen had punched a wall. Why would he punch a wall? Didn't he rely on his fists for training? What on Runeterra would make him so frustrated that he would actually punch a wall?

Lost in her own thoughts, she didn't even notice she had walked straight into someone until she was suddenly stopped in her progress. To her surprise, she found herself face to face with Katarina. Although only a few years younger than the assassin, she only came up to Katarina's nose, being so short. Or maybe Katarina was just tall, like her brother was.

"Oh. Sorry, I was..."

"Distracted," Katarina finished for her. She smiled slightly, seeming not to mind being bumped into. "It's all right. So was I. Who were you so busy thinking about?"

"Not who, exactly. Talon told me some new gossip I'm trying to make sense of."

"He did, did he? Talon never tells you everything."

"I think he does," she said, looking critically at Katarina. "Why would you say that?"

Katarina raised an eyebrow at her. "Assassins never tell all they know." With a sly smile, she handed her something. When Lux saw what it was, her eyes widened in shock. It was her hairpin, the one Talon had said she'd dropped by the bush.

"You lost it. If Graves and Ahri find out it was you, they might be mad. It was their favorite bush."

"Thanks," she said, still surprised that Katarina had actually known about it and bothered to bring it to her.

"Where are you going?" The assassin asked, looking around. "There's no one else here. Everyone's out in the nice weather."

"I was going to find my brother. I heard something about a broken hand."

A smile crept onto Katarina's face. "I was curious about that, too. Let's find him together, shall we?"

* * *

He was standing by the fountain talking to Caitlyn when he spotted the two of them approaching. A bit surprised to see either of them, he worried mostly about why they were coming towards him together. He supposed it would be too much to hope for that they were coming to have a chat with Cait, and not with him. But they wouldn't. Although Lux liked the sherif, Katarina had no love for her, and would not seek her out. No, they were coming for him.

He tried to contain his memories from the night before as they approached, and he saw Katarina's workout clothes. How long she'd been wearing them he didn't know, but the way they clung to her body made him not care about just that. However, he tried to shift his focus to Lux, and it worked. He snapped out of it, forcing a smile onto his face.

"Lux," he said in greeting, waiting while she in turn nodded to him and said hello to Caitlyn. Katarina ignored the sherif of Piltower, just like the sherif of Piltower ignored the noxian assassin.

"We heard you hit your hand," Lux said quickly, revealing the reason she at least had come looking for him.

"No," Katarina said, looking from Lux with an exasperated expression to him. "We heard you punched a wall."

"Alright, so we heard you punched a wall," Lux said with a sigh. "Did you really?"

His eyes on Katarina, he answered. "I did."

Concern colored Lux' voice. "Are you hurt? Is it bad?"

He held up his hand to show her the light bandage. "It's not bad."

"It sure looks bad."

"What did you punch a wall for, anyway?" It was Caitlyn who asked, to his surprise. She was rarely concerned when other champions hurt themselves, with the exception of the obvious brawl, where her sherif instincts kicked in.

"It was stupid, really." He tried to shake it off as nothing, but it became harder to do the more people were concerned about it, in this case, two. Katarina of course, already _knew_ why he had punched the outer wall of the Institute.

"It was," his sister agreed, giving him a glare. "Who's going to break up the fights for the rest of the week?"

"There's not going to be any fights. Everyone will play nice: King Jarvan and Jarvan is coming tomorrow. No one will dare doing anything while they're here." He spoke the last part specifically to Katarina, warning her to stay away. The glint in her green eyes however, told him he might have made a mistake. To her, this had just become a challenge.

"I don't know," the assassin said, her voice a drawl. The smirk on her face made his own redden in embarrassment, as he could clearly read what she was thinking about. "Things are becoming a bit boring around here, don't you think?"

He looked apologetically towards Caitlyn and Lux, before grabbing Katarina's wrist with his bandaged hand. "Please excuse us for a moment."

Standing behind one of the larger bushes, he made sure no one was around before he spoke.

"Don't you _dare_ pull any shit while the King is here."

Her green eyes sparkled in the dim lighting, the smile on her face making him wary. "Worried, Crownguard?"

"I have every reason to be."

Distracted by her fingers, he looked away from her eyes to her hands. She had picked up his bandaged right hand in both of hers, turning it over. Her hands were so small in comparison to his, so delicate.

"Take more care when you punch things. These are not the kind of bandages I would see on your hands."

The caring in her voice caught him by surprise, making him look back at her face. For a moment she looked almost sad, but then a sly smile crept back onto her face.

"I'll see you around, Crownguard."

"No messing around!" He demanded as she turned to leave. Turning back to him, she winked.

"I don't mess around."

He had a bad feeling about this.


	7. Chapter 7

Why Jarvan 4 had been delayed in his return to the Institute, she didn't know, but she guessed it had something to do with his father's decision to come along. She stood with Talon, overlooking the royal arrivals. The two Crownguards stood to greet them, wearing their finest armor.

The demacian king wore his golden royal armor, as did his son. How the king was still the king was a mystery to her, but she supposed that was one of the drawbacks of monarchy: if they were unhappy, they still remained on the throne.

The prince looked happy to be back at the Institute, although the excitement didn't seem to be shared by his father.

"Welcome back, your majesty," Garen said, bowing to the king.

"So what are your plans for the next days?" Talon asked in a low whisper, keeping it away from the king's attention.

She looked at him, not having to wonder about what he meant. The way he was eyeing the demacian commander made it perfectly clear to her.

"I have no big plans."

"Just a little mischief then?"

"Like I said, no _big_ plans." She shrugged, winking at her adoptive brother. "Might be fun."

They watched in silence as the demacian champions in turn greeted their king, before they all stepped back to allow the king to enter the Institute. At the steps before the great doors, the High Council stood, along with Ezreal and the other director. They all greeted the king as well, and turned to walk beside him on his way into the Institute entrance hall, on to who knew where. Probably to the council chambers, she thought.

After the royal envoy were all out of earshot, several intercoms in the courtyards came with an announcement.

"In honor of King Jarvan Lightshield 3 of Demacia's arrival, the Institute of War will hold a ceremonial dinner to welcome the King and his company to our halls. League champions Garen, Caitlyn, Poppy and Katarina is asked to report to the Great Hall to help with the organization."

She groaned, having no wish to help with the seating arrangements. Surely that was what she would be requested to do. It was not unusual for the League to ask their ambassadors for help with this matter, seeing as they were in a good position to know who not to put next to each other, but she also knew that she would be seated at the ambassadors table, along with all of them, which was not an idea she relished.

Next to her, Talon chuckled. "Well, you have fun. I'm off."

"Seeing your mystery woman again?"

He winked at her, something Talon rarely did. "Maybe. You going to ask me who it is?"

"I already know," she answered, enjoying the surprise on his face as her answer sank it. Talon was extremely talented at what he did, but she had been trained by her father her whole life; she was simply better.

Resigned, she slowly made her way through the crowd in the courtyard and onto the steps of the Institute. Caitlyn and Poppy were already waiting for her there; Garen arrived shortly after, out of breath.

"This is going to be fun," the small yordie said, a wicked grin on her face. "Can we place Teemo and Tristana on opposite tables? Please?"

Bolstered by Poppy's sense of humor, Katarina grinned. "Why don't we put them on opposite sides of the room?"

"Won't that be cruel? You won't be sitting with them anyway," Caitlyn reminded the Iron Ambassador, whose spirits seemed to falter slightly.

"Don't remind me." Katarina rolled her eyes. "Shall we, then?"

"Ladies first," Garen said, waiting for them to enter ahead of him.

Katarina cocked her head to the side, looking at Caitlyn with big, innocent eyes. "You know he just wants to check out your ass."

Caitlyn laughed, while Garen looked at them both in indignant surprise. Ignoring his indignation, Katarina started walking towards the Great Hall, followed closely by the other ambassadors.

Once in the great hall, they were met by Ezreal. He smiled apologetically when he saw Katarina's glare, but handed her the list of guests and a seating chart.

"Honestly, you and Lux could do this so much better than us," she complained as she accepted the pieces of paper, glaring down at them. The guest list wasn't very long, with only the champions at the Institute, the King's envoy and and the councillors.

"What's the point of being in charge if I have to do all the boring stuff?"

His feeble attempt at a joke fell short of Katarina, and seeing the glare on her face his grin faltered.

"Anyway, this wasn't my idea. But you guys have fun. The tables will be set up like on paper, and they'll be here shortly. Remember, the faster you get this done, the faster you'll be out of here."

With a sigh, Katarina turned to her fellow ambassadors, the ones currently at the Institute at least.

"Crownguard, give me a pen." She laid down the scroll that would be the seating arrangements on the only table in the Great Hall, rolling it out to have a look. The tables were round, and would seat five people each, with the exception of the high table where the king would sit with the councillors and directors, which was a long rectangular table.

The ambassadors table was located just to the right in front of the long table.

"Why are you asking me for a pen?" Garen sounded annoyed that she had, but she ignored his tone.

"Aren't you always carrying one?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"Then give it to me."

Grudgingly he handed over his pen, and she started to scribble their four names on their allocated table, adding prince Jarvan to fill it up. Placing Ahri with Graves at the next table, she also added Gangplank, Miss Fortune and Wukong. She placed the yordies together as well as she could, and did the same with the noxian, demacian and ionian champions, but separated several of the champions from Freljord and Shadow Isles so there would be no brawls. If Ashe and Tryndamere had been here, Ashe would have been seated at the ambassadors table alongside them, but seeing as they were still in Freljord that would not be happening, and she would have to rely on other means to keep the champions from there separated. She made sure to place Zed away from Akali, Shen and Kennen, not wanting there to be any deaths at the dinner.

For each name she placed on a table, she checked it off the list. At last she was left with the last five champions to place, resulting in a mixed table of Gragas, Jax, Lucian, Malazhar and that clockwork girl, Orianna.

When she was satisfied, she stepped back to let the others have a look. To help Poppy read the seating arrangements, she lifted the small yordie up to sit on the table. The small ambassador seemed pleased with the fact that Teemo and Tristana _at least_ were seated on opposite sides of their table.

When no one voiced their objections, she handed Garen's pen back to him, which he pocketed without a word. Soon after she was done, the tables started arriving, followed by Ezreal shorty afterwards.

He looked over the seatings, and appeared to be pleased with them.

"You did all of it?" He asked, looking up at her.

"Well, you did say the faster we got this done, the faster we could leave."

"The diplomacy is so effective between you and the rest," he noted, still overlooking her seating arrangements.

She shot him a glare. "Isn't the reason we're here to make sure no one will be offended by their table partners?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"Then why does it matter if I did it, or if Poppy did it, or if Cait did it, as long as it gets done?"

He sighed, defeated.

"By the way, I am offended by one my table partners."

"Sucks to be you. At least you're not stuck with all the fancy people." He rolled the scroll up and tucked it under his arm. "All right, nice work, thanks for the help. I think that's all, but I'll call for you if I need your help again."

* * *

"I hate these dinners," Jarvan said as they were in his rooms, getting ready for the big dinner. Like Garen, he was in the process of putting on his dress uniform, and hating every moment of it.

"If you hadn't brought your father, we wouldn't be wearing this right now."

"I couldn't help it. I don't know why, but he wanted to come. Not that things around here are all that fun. What have you been up to while I was away, anyway? I'm hearing rumors about a broken hand."

Garen lifted his right hand, flexing it slightly. He had removed the bandage, and while the skin was raw, it was all right.

"Not broken. Just a little crushed."

"What'd you do? Hit a wall?" Jarvan laughed, but quieted when he saw the look on Garen's face. "No, tell me you didn't."

He shrugged, not able to deny it. "I did. It wasn't serious though."

"Why?"

"Talon told me he had women trouble," Lux's voice said from the other room where she'd been putting on her own dress uniform. She walked quietly into their room, looking like she was about to be presented an award for special services to her city.

"He wouldn't tell me with whom though."

Jarvan looked surprised, but quickly smiled. "Really? Who is it? And why would there be trouble?"

"It's nothing. Anyway, why don't you tell Jarvan about your date with Ezreal instead? I'm sure it's more interesting than my nonexistent women trouble."

"Everyone knows about me and Ez already," his sister said, dismissing his change of subject. "Tell us who you've been seeing. Is it Caitlyn?"

For the remaining half hour he dodged questions about his mystery woman, all the while trying to finish off his dress uniform. He wore no armor, but a deep blue military uniform with gold trimmings and buttons. It was the same as Jarvan's, with the exception of the lighter blue cape he wore as a symbol of his rank in the Dauntless Vanguard. Lux's uniform was quite similar, but her trimmings and buttons were silver, marking her as part of the military intelligence.

A knock on the door signaled the time to leave, and to his surprise he saw Fiora standing outside, wearing her own demacian dress uniform with gold trimmings, but otherwise identical to Lux's.

"Excellent. You made it." Jarvan grinned, before turning to look at a surprised Garen. He knew Fiora was military, but he didn't remember seeing her on the seating charts, meaning she had just arrived.

Oh-oh. They hadn't taken this possibility into account when Katarina had done the seating charts. Garen knew that the King wanted Jarvan to marry a noblewoman, and that Fiora was high on that list, but Jarvan and Fiora had never seriously entertained the idea, instead using it to cover Jarvan's relationships.

"I did. You ready to go?" When Jarvan offered her his arm, she laced her arm through his and pulled out a piece of paper.

"Shyvana sent you this."

A sly grin crept onto the prince's face. "Excellent."

Offering his arm to Lux, they made their way towards the Great Hall behind Jarvan and Fiora. Most of the champions were already there. Leaving his sister with Ezreal, he went in search of Katarina. She had made the seating arrangements, she would place Fiora somewhere.

When he eventually found her talking to Miss Fortune and Caitlyn, he nearly did a double take. Everyone had dressed up in one way or another, but he had never seen Katarina dressed like this. She wore dark red pants, a brown leather corset, tall brown boots and long dark red gloves, all with several leather straps and brass buckles.

"What the hell are you wearing?"

She looked him over for a moment, taking in his dress uniform.

"I'm getting tired of you asking me that. But this is my official High Command uniform."

He looked her over again, not really believing that this actually counted as a uniform, but ignored it in favor of the seating arrangements.

"Jarvan brought Fiora here. We're short one seat."

The dressed-up assassin glared at Fiora for a moment, but then she sighed and turned to find one of the people employed at the Institute.

"I need one more seat at the ambassador's table, at once."

The young man nodded, and scurried off to see too it.

"Great. Was there anything else?"

"No," he said, trying not to look at her outfit, which he had to admit was a tad less revealing than her usual wear, but still skin tight.

"You look dashing, Crownguard." He caught a fleeting smile on her face before she disappeared into the crowd, arm in arm with Akali.

* * *

"So, what happened to Draven's leg?" Jarvan asked, looking over at the noxian table. The Glorious Executioner sat between his brother Darius and Talon, his leg in a cast and a glare on his otherwise so twisted face. Garen shrugged, looking over himself. Draven _did_ look pretty mad.

"I've no idea. Why don't you ask him?"

"Right. Because I want to be executed. No, thanks. He's already tried once." Jarvan rolled his eyes as the suggestion, not even considering taking it seriously. It hadn't been meant seriously though, so Garen just chuckled along with his childhood friend.

"He was trying out some new fancy moves when the table he stood on toppled," Katarina's voice shot in from his other side.

Surprised that Katarina had bothered to tell them about it, he turned to look at her. She shrugged self-consciously, not really wanting all the attention.

"Too bad it was only his leg," Jarvan muttered, and took a sip of his glass of wine. Fiora laughed brazenly at his comment, looking over at Draven as if he might have heard. She probably hoped he had; Fiora loved nothing better than a challenge, and Draven would give her that.

"That's very undiplomatic, wouldn't you say?" Caitlyn said, pausing with her own glass of wine in her hand. "I mean, you don't really want another league champion killed, do you?" Her voice sounded bored; Garen knew she very well knew that, if given the choice between Draven and a killer goat, Jarvan would choose to save the goat. Caitlyn knew this as well, so her comment must have been purely for the benefit of anyone listening.

"Of course not," the prince said, but the roll of his eyes said differently.

Katarina sighed, drawing his attention again. She looked downright bored, the way she looked out the window and moved one of the peas on her plate back and forth with her fork, never eating it. She was finished eating though, he could tell. He had finished ages ago, and was just waiting for the dessert.

Katarina turned to glance at him, somehow knowing he had turned to look. She cocked an eyebrow at him, wondering why he was staring at her. He hadn't been staring, not really. He had only just looked over, but he had had the time to appreciate how she looked in her so-called uniform.

With a flick of her hand, she flipped her hair over her shoulder, giving him an annoyed look.

"What's the matter, Crownguard?"

"I'm bored," he mock-complained as he glanced back at Jarvan. The prince was still busy talking to Fiora and Caitlyn, not even noticing Garen's turn to the assassin.

"With those for company, I can see why."

He shot her a glare, but she only winked at him with her scarred eye. She was teasing him, something she by now was perfectly accomplished at.

"Why, do you think yourself better company?" He asked, playing along. There was nothing interesting he could otherwise be doing, anyway.

She gave a one-shouldered shrug. "I can be perfectly fine company. Just not for demacians."

"You're not all that bad for company," he said with a shrug of his own, remembering the other night at his balcony. No, the red-haired assassin could definitely be good company, when she wanted to be.

"You're making me blush," she said dryly, as if she hadn't found his joke the least bit funny, but he chuckled.

He seriously doubted that she knew how to blush, but he just shrugged it off as if he couldn't be bothered to comment on it. Seeing Katarina loose interest in their barely-there banter, he turned back to look at Fiora. The duelist was still talking to Jarvan, making some snide comments about the noxians he could not quite make out, but by the sound of the snort from his other side, Katarina _had_ heard.

Fiora had also heard the snort. She turned to look at the noxian assassin, who seemed to be studying her nails with great interest.

"You got a problem?"

Katarina turned suddenly and looked at Fiora with a glint in her green eyes. "A question, actually." When Fiora didn't say anything, she went on. "Aren't duelists just failed assassins?"


	8. Chapter 8

"A duel? Who does she think she is?" They were out in the hallway, having stepped out after Fiora's challenge. Garen had taken the duty of calming Katarina down, following a pleading look from Jarvan. It was clear that the prince would rather not see a fight between the two women. So he and Katarina had stepped outside the moment the celebration dinner was over.

"She's the famed duelist of Demacia, Kat. It1s what she does."

She shot him a menacing glare, as if saying she could hardly believe his nerve, either. Her chest was heaving heavily as she tried to take deep breaths, but it did not calm her down as he had hoped.

He looked around to see most of the champions and diplomats streaming out of the massive double doors a ways off, looking like a mass of people. He spotted Draven, clumsily trying not to use his broken leg as he followed Darius out the doors.

Katarina had spotted them as well. For some reason, the sight of the champions seemed to cool her.

"I would hate to duel that woman. The challenge is an insult."

"Then don't," he said, taking a deep breath. Maybe they'd get lucky, and the duel would be cancelled. He had no doubts Katarina would win it, despite Fiora's reputation.

She suddenly looked up at him, her green eyes wavering in anger. "I can't refuse a challenge."

"Calm down," he said, trying to soothe her. It didn't work. Her breathing came through clenched teeth, but after a few long minutes, he thought she might have calmed down some. Her face was no longer tight, and her teeth had unclenched, leaving her rubbing her sore jaw.

He relaxed slightly when he surmised that she was no longer in a mood to punch someone. A worried frown crept onto his face however, when he remembered her words from yesterday. She was bound to have some sort of plan to cause mischief.

"What are you planning?" He asked, shifting slightly to lean against the wall beside her. Her green eyes glanced up at him, and for a moment he thought he saw worry in them, but it shifted so quickly that he could not be sure. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light.

"Nothing much," she said lightly. She sounded too innocent for his liking, but decided he was too tired to worry about it right then. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and tried to tune out the sound of the other champions, who were not making their way towards the courtyards.

"Walk with me," she requested quietly, moving away from the wall and looking at him. She looked odd, but he agreed to walk with her, thinking it might calm her further down. At least he hoped he would. Despite her appearance of calm, he knew her anger bubbled right underneath the surface, always at the ready.

They walked in a quiet corner of the courtyard for a while, before they set their sights on the Institute itself. They had hardly talked, but he had understood how tired she was, and so didn't object when she sat course for her own rooms in the noxian wing of the Institute.

"Well, this is me," she said, her tone dreary as she stopped outside a plain door at the end of the wing.

"Corner balcony, huh?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Only the best."

"I know. I have one too."

Her lips twitched slightly, as if she was going to smile, and then she gave a sly smile. He knew by the look she was going him that she was remembering their last encounter on his balcony.

As they stood there, he became aware of a sound like heavy thumps, coming towards them. When he turned to look, he saw to his dismay, Draven standing only a few feet away from them. He was smirking at them, his scarred, ugly face right up close. Garen could not stand Draven, and the only champion at the Institute he liked less than him was his brother, Darius.

"Katarina. What is he doing here?" Draven nodded towards Garen, refusing to speak directly to him.

"I don't see how that's any of your business," she said loftily, turning her face away from Draven and moving to opening the door to her rooms. The noxian executioner put two fingers to her face, turning it back towards his cocky smirk.

"Why do you resist this, Katarina?"

* * *

Fury flashed through her as he spoke. How _dare_ he. "Get your hands off me," she said, trying to shake his hold on her face. He let go reluctantly, but he remained close, leaning heavily on the wall to take some weight off his broken leg.

She had never really been a fan of Dravens, like so many other women at the High Command were. He was not handsome, as they claimed. There was something extremely unappealing in the way he looked at and talked to women, that ruined any pretense of handsomeness his face might have held for her. Maybe the other women didn't see it like she did, or maybe they did not care, but Draven gave her the creeps.

"Go away, Draven," she said, taking a step away from him. It brought her closer to the demacian commander, but as long as he remained silent, nothing needed to happen.

Draven, his grin giving away for the first time just how drunk he was, looked from her to the commander, and then back to her again. A disgusted smirk spread on his face.

"You refuse me, but you'll let the demacian touch you? I thought you had better taste."

She pointedly refused to reply to his insinuations, instead turning her head to glare at him. "Leave. Now."

Either unwilling to listen or not bothering to recognize what would be for his own good, Dragen turned his smirk from Katarina to Garen, who stood close behind her.

"If she's anything like her sister, you're in for a treat, Crownguard."

Slam! She had hardly noticed her hand moving, but she felt the impact of it through her entire body as she slapped Draven as hard as she could across his scarred face. When she removed her hand, she noticed an angry red mark where it had been. How _dare _he speak of her sister in that way.

"If you say anything about my sister ever again, it'll be the last words you say." Her voice came surprisingly calm, and it had the desired effect. For the first time in forever, she saw shock and worry in Draven's eyes. She wondered if it was emotions he had ever felt before.

"Now go away, or I'll tell your brother you're lurking about my rooms again."

With a reproaching glare at Garen, the wounded executioner started to hobble away on his crutches, two pairs of eyes fixed on his back until he slammed the door to his own rooms several dozen paces away.

The commander next to her sighed. "You needn't have hit him."

"Why? You would've? Think about it, Crownguard. If you hit him, then there's open hostility between the noxian and demacian champions, even if we are constantly reminded that there are no enemies here. If _I _hit him, on the other hand, everyone will assume he made a pass at me again and that he deserved what he got."

Her sudden anger faded, and she looked at the commander in amusement as he raised his eyebrows at her; it looked extremely uncharacteristic. She watched as his hair fell into his face as he thought it over, and smirked slightly. His hair had become too long for him, that was obvious. But he was just so _handsome_ with his hair falling into his eyes; it took her completely by surprise.

She had not been ready for his anger at Draven, which he had no reason to feel, really. The insult was aimed at her, not at him. Yet he had been angry for it. A burning urge lit within. It was an urge with similarities to that she felt when she was mad, but there was no one around to hit. She supposed she could hit the commander, but that would be poorly done, and might make him unwilling to follow her wishes. For this time, she had wishes and wants for which she needed him. It was in that moment, thinking about how handsome he was, his behavior, that she realized she could no longer play at this game. If she was to start it this time, there would be no stopping, at least from her side. She could not tease him again; she did not want to only tease him.

Not thinking it over, she grabbed his collar forcefully and pulled him down towards her. He did not resist when she kissed him, for which she was glad, but not surprised. After a brief moment, he swept her up and pushed her against the door of her rooms, using his body to keep her lifted off the floor. The sudden passion radiating from him equaled hers, and she was to her surprise relieved that he returned the kisses with such fervor. While she knew he lusted for her, the intensity of it took her by surprise. With each of his heavy breaths, a grin grew on her face.

After several long minutes however, she moved her legs towards the floor. He put her down reluctantly, blue fire blazing in his eyes. She had spotted the intensity in them several times before; the training arena, and that night on the balcony, to think of a few. She liked nothing better than seeing his wishes so clearly expressed in his eyes.

The moment she was down, he turned to stare apprehensively at her, wondering what she was up to. In answer to his confusion, she raised an eyebrow and unlocked her door. As it swung open, she grabbed one of his big, rough hands and pulled him inside. The satisfied grin was still etched on his lips when he kissed her.

The time for playing games was over, at least for tonight.

* * *

"I didn't hear you last night."

Katarina rolled her eyes at her adoptive brother and colleague, who was looking at her. His dark eyes held hers, as if transfixed. She was not intimidated, like so many others were. He might be a cold-blooded killer, and he might be extremely skilled and efficient at what he did, but so was she; she was more than used to it.

"Why, were you listening at the door again?" She made a tsk-noise that seemed to annoy him greatly. "You know Talon, I never do that when you have company, but I hear it all anyway."

For a short moment, it looked like he was about to blush, but the sheepish expression on his face faded quickly, replaced with stony contemplation.

"You hear, do you?"

"Well, I'm not deaf," she pointed out, before taking a bite of her toasted bread. They were in the dining hall, having breakfast together, as was usual for them on off-days.

"I meant," he said, taking a deep breath, "do you hear _that_ through the walls?"

She raised her eyebrows at him in disbelief. "Honestly Talon, the whole noxian wing hears the two of you."

"I don't think so. I've not heard anyone talk about it. And I hear everything."

She laughed darkly. "No one dares."

A figure entering the hall caught her eye. Tall, muscled and with brown disheveled hair, Garen Crownguard had entered with his sister. Her eyes followed him until they sat down, and then she turned back to look at Talon. He was watching her, a grim smile on his lips.

"That was who you had over last night?"

She merely shrugged, continuing to eat her breakfast. She had been starving, but found her appetite waning when she also spotted Draven entering the room. He made her sick to the stomach.

"How would you know? You weren't in your own rooms last night." When he seemed surprised by this information, she rolled her eyes at him again. "Really, I am no novice at this. If you had been there, she would have been with you, and I would have heard. Seeing as I heard nothing, you were probably in her rooms. Correct?"

Reluctantly, he nodded, glancing away from her. She gave him a small smile.

"You like her, don't you?"

Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow at her in return. "You like him, don't you?"

She gave a small laugh. He did not miss much, she'd give him that. With a glance up at the large clock hanging on the wall, she sighed. Five to nine. Talon had looked up, too.

"It's soon, is it?"

"Ten," she said with a curt nod. Her eyes searched the hall, eventually landing on the famed duelist of Demacia. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted the pink-striped black hair. It was time to find out who was the better fighter.

* * *

_A/N I'm sorry it's taken this long to update. I've had exams to study for and recently started work for the summer, so I've found little time to write. However, it should not have taken this long. I'll do my best to post more often again in the future!_


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